


Piqued

by SpinningLenny



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Garden of Eden, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Prehistoric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 07:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19883644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinningLenny/pseuds/SpinningLenny
Summary: How a certain wily old serpent went from chatting up the first humans to chatting up an angel.





	Piqued

When Crawly slithered out of their hiding place, the two humans were gone.

Pity.

Crawly had been looking forward to spending more time with them. The longer one with the little front-facing tail between their legs had been quite pleasant in a pragmatic sort of way, and the shorter one with the thorax bumps, well. Crawly had always thought of themself as inquisitive, but the human had listened to all their questions and then replied with even _more_ questions, new and _better_ questions that made Crawly’s mind churn in ways they’d never experienced before. But then the angel with the flaming sword had appeared and Crawly had done what any demon with an ounce of self-preservation would and made themself scarce.

And now the humans were gone. Banished, abandoned, kicked out. Mission accomplished, time to report back. But after getting their first taste of a real conversation, Crawly found themself reluctant to return to the Below. The demon looked around—and coiled in on themself when they spotted the angel on top of the wall. The Guardian, who had descended upon the humans with their Divine sword to act out the wrath of the Almighty. Both demonic instincts and memories of the Rebellion screamed in Crawly’s mind that they _must not_ let the angel notice them, and so they held themself completely still and observed.

Even though the angel’s attention was focused outside the wall, Crawly could feel the raw power of a Cherub rolling off them. Strange, then, that they’d chosen a physical form representative of the lower choirs. And not just that, but something else seemed… _off_ about them. Not in a demonic way; their inherent goodness burned so brightly that Crawly felt the empty place in themself ache for something they weren’t allowed to remember. But as the demon watched the angel shift their weight from side to side, shoulders and wings drawn tight, Crawly couldn’t help but think they looked somehow…unsure, if not downright _anxious_. Or at least that was their best guess, since for as long as they could remember, Crawly had never seen an angel display anything less than unmitigated confidence in their purpose and righteousness.

Interesting.

Interesting enough, Crawly decided, that they could postpone their return to the Below for a little longer. Who knew what valuable information they might miss out on otherwise? If worse came to worst, well. Crawly was fairly talented at getting out of tight spots, so they just had to keep on their guard, and there would be little risk in revealing themself. They had only one chance, after all—considering the enormous size of Creation, Crawly wouldn’t be meeting this particular angel again until the final war between Above and Below came around. And that likely wasn’t going to be the place to strike up a conversation.

Their mind made up, Crawly tried to visualise themself in a physical form similar to the angel’s. It did seem to lend itself far better to manifesting and stretching their wings than their serpent form did. And even though they retained only a vague memory of how limbs worked, Crawly was sure they’d get the hang of it soon enough. Taking a final glance to make sure the Divine sword was nowhere to be seen—which didn’t mean much, but was at least a good start—Crawly started slithering up the wall.


End file.
